Missing You
by starsontheceiling
Summary: Written for XTimeGirlX's shuffle contest. Missing You by John Waite. Post 3.8 Gene's trying to convince himself he doesn't miss Alex.


**This is an entry to XTimeGirlX's shufflefic contest. The song I used is called Missing You by John Waite. It's a very Galexy song and I recommend you try to listen to it as it's a great song. It is also probably one of the most Galexy songs on my iPod and for that I thank my iPod ;) **

**It's set after Alex's departure. In vino veritas means 'In wine there is truth.' My dad said Japanese cars used to be known for their reliability but I know nothing about cars so please forgive me if I got that bit wrong. The Mill Working Grandmother bit; women in mills learned to lip read as it was too loud to hear anything. They were mostly in the north so I thought it was plausible Gene had a grandmother who worked in a mill.**

**After XTimeGirlX's review I realised I'd left out the lyrics ¬_¬ I meant to put them in after... and forgot. If you know the song you could probably work out where they'd fit in but if you don't you wouldn't realise. So this is an edited copy :D**

**Bold and italic are the lyrics. :: indicates a time lapse. **

**I own nothing. Kudos/BBC owns all. And John Waite owns Missing you. **

**Enjoy!**

_**Every time I think of you**_

_**I always catch my breath**_

_**And I'm still standing here **_

_**And you're miles away**_

_**And I'm wondering why you left**_

_**And there's a storm that's raging**_

_**Through my frozen heart tonight**_

DCI Gent Hunt sat at his desk. His feet were propped up on the desk, a hip flask of whisky held loosely by his side. As his eyes drifted shut a memory darted to the forefront of his brain. Alex sitting opposite him in this very office; finally falling asleep at an obscure hour after brainstorming on how to bring Mac down. For a second he could almost feel the warmth of her hand next to his. His eyes snapped open. He promptly clenched them shut; longing to return to the memory but the moment had gone and the office suddenly felt cold as ice.

"Alex." He said aloud to the silent office. No one replied unsurprisingly but he swore he saw her form bent over his desk, her lamp on, working on a case into the night like she so often did. His breath caught in his throat. He blinked furiously and stood up, grabbing his coat and stormed out of CID, shattering the vision of her as he did. He went to Luigi's despite the fact it was almost half eleven. Luigi always let him in. He didn't know why Luigi hadn't left but he was infinitely glad he hadn't. Whenever he asked the little Italian he avoided the subject. Instead the money he had inherited was used to redo the restaurant a little and the rest was put into the bank.

When Luigi saw Gene walk dejectedly into the restaurant he did not sigh or moan. He simply smiled sadly and reached for the bottle of wine and the whisky bottle that Gene always had. Luigi had never told Gene why he had stayed. He still longed to leave but he couldn't bring himself to. He too missed Chris, Ray, Shaz and Alex immensely but it was nothing compared to Gene's pain he knew. That night they had left he had come in here and drunk himself to oblivion. Well, you know what they say; In vino veritas. Gene had told him that he left too he didn't know how he would cope. He was dying he had said. He didn't know how he would cope. Luigi had took pity on him and vowed not to move. Gene never remembered that night. He didn't remember how the little Italian had dragged him up the stairs, nearly breaking his back until he had deposited him on Alex's sofa and quietly left him to sleep off the drink.

Luigi put the drink down on 'Gene's' table and took away the reserved sign. He never let anyone sit there; ever. Apart from Gene obviously. Gene's table. Luigi sighed sadly. Once it had been Gene and Alex's table. He didn't understand the complexity of why Alex had left but he had observed them many, many times and knew it was not her own choosing that had forced her to leave Gene so lost.

He was an odd guardian angel admittedly but he was one and though Gene would never admit it Luigi's quiet unvoiced empathy, the way he never intruded but stopped him from drinking so much he couldn't drive or think helped him beyond imagining.

As the night ticked on Luigi came over. "Signor Hunt? It is very late now. I would like to be closing soon."

"Of course Luigi, I'm sorry." Gene stood up and wobbled slightly.

"Signor Hunt you must not drive like that!" Luigi commanded.

"Says who Luigi?"

"Me!" The little Italian insisted indignantly

"Well you've been really helpful Luigi I'm not denying that but seriously you aren't my dad." Gene growled.

"Signora Drake would not have been happy either." Luigi countered.

Gene flinched. Luigi regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.

Gene did not say a word but left silently. Luigi stood in the middle of the restaurant. He was waiting for the growl of Gene's new Quattro but nothing happened. He went outside quietly. The Quattro stood silently parked in the shadows. Suddenly a new shaft of light lit up the street; it came from Alex's window. For one stupid irrepressible moment Luigi hoped Alex had returned but no; it was just Gene entering the flat. He turned back to the restaurant and went to bed lonely and tired.

Gene meanwhile was standing alone in Alex's flat. Dust covered almost every surface. He stood there, hardly moving.

The sound of some drunks walking down the street disturbed his musings. He thought of Alex so far away. She was probably happy. He knew why she'd left; he had told her. But why had she not fought back? Why had she followed his orders? She never did normally. Did she want to get away from him? Was he really so bad? He closed his eyes firmly; opening them again when the stinging had subsided. The drunks had moved on and the flat was silent once again.

He turned on the light and sat on the sofa; head in his hands. He then stood up and turned on the cassette tape. The familiar opening notes of Spandau Ballet's True floated into the silent air. He turned off the light and lay down on the sofa, covering himself with his coat.

He closed his eyes as the song finished; trying to ignore the pain that rampaged through his frozen heart.

The next morning he woke when the light streamed through the window onto his face. He winced and stood up; stretching. He used Alex's bathroom and then with a heavy heart went into her bedroom. The bed was unmade; her makeup littered her dressing table and a t-shirt was tossed carelessly onto a chair but the thing that made his already broken heart shatter even more was a black shirt lying on the bed. It was one of his shirts. He picked it up and brought it closer to his face. It smelt of her. He closed his eyes once again. He placed it down and went to her cupboard. He opened it and sure enough in amongst her clothes hung several of his shirts. He pulled one on that would match the spare tie he had in his car.

He then walked down to Luigi's. Luigi saw him coming down the stairs as he was wiping down the counter. "Senor Hunt? Would you be liking some breakfast?"

"What Luigi?"

"Some breakfast? Would you be liking some?"

"Err yes please Luigi." Gene said cautiously.

On the way into the office Gene wondered briefly if Alex had been wrong. She had always said that Italians didn't go in for breakfast in the same way the English did. Judging by the breakfast Luigi had just cooked her she was almost certainly wrong.

He walked into CID and pushed the doors open grandly; just like he used to in the old days. Some of the coppers who had been here all along looked up. They breathed a silent sigh of relief because the Gov was back. Not all of him and the Manc Lion was still subdued but he was no longer hiding in a cave licking his wounds. Or sitting in his office brooding and drinking whisky.

"So. What have you got for me?" He demanded gruffly.

Everybody smiled.

When Gene finally retreated to his office his facade slipped. It was getting better but it was so hard to keep pretending.

::

_**I hear your name, in certain circles**_

_**And it always makes me smile**_

DI Philip Glenister looked through the glass at his DCI. It had been almost a year since he'd arrived and 10 months since the Gene he knew now had appeared.

The thing was when he had first arrived a shell of a man had greeted him. The shell was angry, violent and drank himself to oblivion if they didn't keep an eye on him. Then two months later he had walked in, like a person. He had grown rather fond of his Gov, and this world. Initially he'd hated it with a passion but he was beginning to fit in and was trying to remember what was so great about 2010 anyway.

Currently he was desperately trying to remember everything he could from a talk by DI Alexandra Drake on criminal psychology. Because I had to open my big mouth and say we could solve it if we used some modern techniques like psychology and Jake goaded me into talking to the whole of CID about it. I'm screwed basically. He lamented to himself as he went up to the flipchart and rapped on it with his pen.

"Right boys and girls."

When he noticed that even the Gov had come out to observe, he was leaning casually against the door frame of his office Philip's throat went dry.

"Bloody hell." Moaned Terry "It's worse than one of Drake's little psycho-whatsits."

Everybody froze; all eyes went involuntary to the Gov.

"Oh God it is, isn't it? Least that's one thing we got rid of when she left 'ey lads?" Gene gave one of his trademark half smiles. Anyone looking in from the outside would never have seen the pain in his eyes; only Alex would ever have seen that but despite the pain he felt the smile was genuine. Terry was right; what Philip was doing was so very Alex he had to smile.

Everyone laughed; the sound of relief. "It worked though." Someone said.

"Oh I ain't denying that. She just needed to tell us; not go on about it and try and get us to understand it. Because she really did go on." There were more laughs.

"Drake?" Asked Philip curiously.

"DI Alex Drake, you replaced her. She must have been mentioned before."

"Yeah. I just never really made the connection."

"What connection Philippa?"

"I was a talk she was at; about criminal psychology. What gave me the idea for this actually."

"What did you think of her?"

Philip looked at the Gov and noticed once again the change in the atmosphere. Tension reigned. It was amazing how easily this man seemed to command the world of CID.

"She was posh, gorgeous and clever."

"Got it in one." Gene grinned.

"Three really."

"Shut up Philippa."

"Yes Gov."

::

_**I spend my time, thinking about you**_

_**And it's almost driving me wild**_

_**...**_

_**And there's a message that I'm sending out  
Like a telegraph to your soul  
And if I can't bridge this distance  
Stop this heartbreak overload**_

_**...  
I ain't missing you at all  
Since you've been gone, away  
I ain't missing you  
No matter, what I might say  
You don't know, how desperate I've become**_

_**And it looks like I'm losing this fight**_

_**In your world I have no meaning **_

_**Though Im trying hard to understand**_

_**And it's my heart that's breaking **_

_**Down this long distance line tonight**_

It was late; he knew that much. Glancing down at his watch he swore quietly; half twelve. He swallowed the last of his whisky and gazed out over CID. Philip had left his desk lamp on and it cast a warm glow over the office. If he half closed his eyes he could almost see Alex sitting there, bent over a case file. It was a week since Philip had given his little talk and he had managed to ignore the images that pressed at edges of his brain by focussing on the case. But now the case was over and he was alone in a silent office. It wasn't a good combination.

'Bloody hell. I'm going as loony as old Bolls.' He thought tiredly as he watched her ghost cross CID to the kitchenette.

He rubbed his face sadly. It was hard; very hard. Being alone when surrounded by people. Closing himself off to protect himself from the pain but being unable to detach himself from Philip and knowing when he left his already broken heart would be well and truly shattered beyond repair.

"Bolls. I know you can't hear me but it's a weird place so maybe you'll hear me or sense me or something. I'm tired and I can't deal with it. I need you Bolls. I should never have sent you in the pub. Please Bolls."

The office remained unforgivingly silent.

Then the door opened. The remnants of Gene's shattered heart leapt but it was only the night shift desk sergeant.

"Sir?"

"Yes."

"You ought to go home sir. It's late."

"You're probably right Mikey. I'll be right off."

"Ok Sir. Do you want me turn out that lamp on my way out Sir?"

"No leave it on."

"As you wish Sir."

Gene stood up and stretched after the young officer left. He walked slowly towards the door; stopping to turn of the light at Philip's desk. He didn't check the kitchenette; not wanting to face the emptiness he knew was there.

He pauses at the desk. "I wanted to say thanks for reminding me to leave Mikey."

"That's quite alright Sir."

"And to say you should call me Gov."

"Ok Gov." The young man beamed; it was an honour for the legendary DCI Hunt to be his Gov.

"I don't need her; do I Mikey?"

"Who don't you need?"

"Drake."

"Of course not Gov."

"And I don't miss her."

"Anything you say Gov."

Gene left the station the young officer watching him leave with a mixture of bemusement and pride.

Gene drove ferociously through the streets. "I don't miss her. I don't miss her. I don't miss her." He repeated over and over like a mantra until he got home and collapsed into bed.

Alas though; sleep would not come. He lay there; staring at the ceiling wondering what it was about Alex Drake that had ensnared him so badly.

He half smiled to himself. It wasn't the smile so beloved of Alex Drake though; it was that sad bitter half smile that he used when they had fought and he didn't know how to fix it. Or when he was smirking at a murderer.

It was bitterness and loneliness and pain all twisted together.

And that was him.

Bitterness.

Loneliness.

Pain.

Alex had done it; and Sam before her. And now Philip was doing it.

Changed the bitterness into a sarcastic happiness.

Fought away the loneliness with laughter and drink.

Healed all his wounds and smothered his pain.

But they had gone; left him and now he was more messed up than ever. Sam had healed his long lasting anger. Loosing Sam had been hard enough but Bolly had healed him. Then she had gone. Philip was helping but he was more of a painkiller than an actual cure and when he wasn't around the pain returned tenfold.

He wondered if she'd forgotten him. She'd be happy in there; had her pick of any guy that took her fancy. Probably high up officers as well.

Gene groaned; this wasn't helping his self control in the slightest. Imagining Bolly all dressed up was bad enough. Imagining her all dressed up for another man was simply twisting the knife.

She wouldn't have forgotten him? Would she? He could never forget her; she was branded onto the insides of his eyelids. It was inconceivable she could have forgotten him.

He rolled over and bit the pillow.

Slowly but surely he was losing his internal battle to forget about her; the promise he'd made to himself about moving on the day Luigi made him breakfast all but forgotten by his masochistic subconscious.

::

_**I ain't missing you at all  
Since you've been gone, away  
**_

Gene Hunt was late in. Due to his tiredness and desperation the night before he had forgotten to reset his alarm and slept in. Much like Alex used to do. Steering himself mentally away from the potential minefield he was set to storm into CID he paused when he saw his name being mentioned by Philip; who was talking to Terry and Poirot. Sending a thank you to heavens to the mill working grandmother who had taught him how to lip read he slipped silently into CID and motioning for everyone to remain silent he followed his three officers; listening to their conversation.

"What was it with the Gov and that Drake bird?" Philip asked leaning up against the counter as the kettle hummed quietly.

"It was complicated." Terry replied. Gene repressed a snort. They didn't know the half of it.

"Were they sleeping together?"

_I wish._

"We never knew. I don't think they were although Shaz once said they should kill each other or get a room." Terry continued.

_She always was so perceptive that girl._

"There was something between then." Poirot agreed.

_No shit Sherlock. _

"She was a weird girl though. Was forever calling us constructs and babbling on about going home and seeing her Molly." Poirot muttered leaning forward and picking up the kettle and pouring it into three cups.

"Do you think he misses her?" Philip probed as he reached over for the milk.

_You have no idea._

"Definitely." Terry answered; turning around with his cup of tea. He came face to face with Gene.

"Shit."

"Quite my old friend. I'll have tea with five sugars and if you're asking me about DI Drake it was a good thing she left." Gene turned to his office.

"We are asking you." Muttered Philip. "I think that's the problem."

Gene couldn't be bothered to turn round and fight back.

::

_**I ain't missing you  
No matter, what my friends say  
**_

They were sitting in Luigi's having a drink. Well more drinks than drink.

Philip had been probing quietly into Alex and her disappearance. Gene was only grateful it hadn't crossed Philip's mind that Gene might have killed her.

But he was opening the wounds that Gene had fought so hard to heal.

Suddenly one of the lads raised his glass. "To Philip, he's been here a year now and our success rates haven't dropped. Which to be honest we all expected after Drake left and so far we haven't had an urge to kill him."

"Speak for yourself." Terry said jokingly.

"Thanks lads." Philip smiled warmly. No one seemed to have noticed Gene in the corner who looked like he had seen a ghost.

A year? She'd been gone a year. He hadn't noticed the date. Oh God. And Sam was only here for two years. Philip will be leaving soon. He's all sorted out. Oh God.

These thoughts were running around and around in his head. And one statement kept repeating itself:

It's been a year and it still hurts like hell. I thought it would have faded. It's never going to stop.

The wine glass he had been holding in his hand shattered under his tightened grip. A shard went deep into his palm. The wine mixed with his blood as it dripped onto the table. The shards of glass lay like crystal leaves on the table; tainted with the drops of Gene's blood. Everyone had turned to look at him.

"I'll see you all tomorrow Gentlemen. Goodnight." He stood up and cradling his injured hand slightly he left; with the shard still embedded in his palm.

Everyone was shocked; silence reigned. Then the chatter from other tables started up again. But CID's table remained in silence.

Then Terry seemed to find his voice. "What the hell just happened?"

"The Gov just shattered a glass." Poirot quipped.

"No shit Sherlock." Someone muttered back.

Only Philip seemed to have realised. He did not voice his suspicions. "I'll go see if I can find him. He can't have got far; he won't be able to drive like that."

"He won't like it boss."

"That's just tough. He won't like not being able to use his hand for a month either because he let it get infected!"

Everyone laughed and let him go. He was so intent on working out where Gene would have gone (probably the station) that he walked straight into Luigi.

"Sorry Luigi."

"No problem Philip. Where are you going?"

"To find the Gov."

"He will be upstairs. In the lovely Signora 's flat."

"Whose?"

"Signora Drake's flat. He owns it now. He been up a few times since she left but this is the first time in many months."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes; I saw him go up the stairs." The little Italian nodded widely.

"Thank you!" Philip grinned and raced towards the stairs.

"Gov?" He knocked "I know you're in there. Let me in."

"Piss off Philippa."

"No. Let me in."

"No."

Glowering Philip knelt down and pulled out the hair grips he kept in his pocket for occasions such as this and set to work. A short time later the lock gave a satisfying click and Philip let himself into the flat.

He looked around. It was a very odd sensation. The flat looked both lived in and abandoned. Various things lay scattered around the place; some clothes; shoes; makeup. Pens and a notebook lay on the table and a faint smell of women's perfume lingered in the air. But dust covered every surface. It looked like someone had left one morning and not returned for over a year.

"I thought I told you to piss off."

"You did. I didn't listen."

Gene gave a snort of reluctant laughter. "You're so much like her. Do you know that?"

"I didn't but I do now. I came to sort out your hand."

"It'll be fine." Gene insisted; a childish edge to his voice. His words contradicted the sight of his hand; lying in his lap on an already blood soaked towel.

"Have you taken out the glass yet?"

"I was just getting to that part." Gene muttered. Philip rolled his eyes.

"Don't move." Philip instructed as he began the search for a first aid kit. Alex seemed like the kind of girl who would have one. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Gene giving him the finger with his uninjured hand. He smirked.

A short while later Philip had found the first aid kit and was gently picking out the shards of glass in Gene's palm. Gene was swearing. A lot.

"Do you miss her Gov?"

Gene stared at him. To Philip's surprise he hadn't objected to Philip administering first aid to him. Apart from the swearing at the pain he had not objected.

"Is there any point in lying?"

"Not really." Philip told him matter of factly as he applied some antiseptic cream. Gene swore again.

"What do you think?"

"Did you love her?"

"Trust you to ask that."

"Did you though?"

"What do you think?"

"I think that you loved her very much and you're scared and lonely and hurting without her."

"And I think you've overstepped the mark Philip."

"Sorry Gov." Philip said quietly as he bandaged his hand. Gene shrugged and poured Philip some whisky. Philip accepted it; knowing this was the Gov's way of accepting his apology.

"Gov; I always wondered. If you had a Quattro before, why did you get one again?"

"I was going to get a Mercedes but when I went down to the showroom none of them caught my eye. Then the salesmen recommended I try an Audi Quattro I just laughed. I had tried out a few other cars but none really compared. They just weren't the same. So I got one again... Plus Bolls always said that the Quattro was just me. If people were cars then I'd be a Quattro. Once she was so pissed she said she wouldn't like me half so much without the way I drove the Quattro." Gene smirked slightly at the memory of a very drunk Alex flirting like hell with him before virtually collapsing. He'd carried her upstairs that night and slept on her sofa.

"She sounds like quite the woman."

"She was." Gene sighed regretfully. He pulled a hand over his eyes that seemed to be stinging again. He was not going to cry in front of his DI. In fact he wasn't going to cry at all.

"She was certainly right about the car thing. You'd definitely be a Quattro." Philip laughed, trying to lighten the mood. His DCI's desperation had not escaped his notice. "What car would I be?"

"A Japanese one probably. Something reliable. Something that never broke down." Gene said quietly and in that moment Philip realised just how much his DCI was hurting. He also knew that he'd never get a higher compliment from his Gov.

"Thank you." Philip said quietly. He stood slowly and left the flat leaving Gene to his thoughts and memories.

::

_**I ain't missing you at all  
Since you've been gone, away**_

I ain't missing you, I ain't missing you  
I can lie to myself  
And there's a storm that's raging  
Through my frozen heart tonight  
I ain't missing you at all  


Gene was determined not to show anything of how much he was being torn up inside. It wasn't as intense as the pain when Bolly had left, or Sam but it still hurt like hell.

"Gov?"

"Yeah Philippa?"

"Thank you. It's been an honour."

"You're welcome and I'm glad to hear I finally knocked some sense into you."

"I definitely think knocked is the right word." He muttered wryly. Gene couldn't help but smile.

"Get a pint for me, won't you?"

"Course I will Gov."

"Bye Gov."

"Bye Philippa."

"I'll pay you back for everything. I promise."

"A drink'll do me just fine. Now get your arse in there."

"Right you are Gov." Philip walked slowly to the bar, pausing by the door to raise his hand. A last farewell before he opened the door. David Bowie drifted out. Then the door clanged shut.

And Gene was alone.

Again.

The pain was undeniable now. It coursed through him, shredding every nerve, his heart that was torn and broken beyond repair was being slowly and systematically crushed.

Gene turned dejectedly. His back to the pub he walked slowly away.

He paused for a moment. Pretended he could hear her voice calling after him. Lying to himself. Pretended he could hear her footsteps as she chased after him. Lied that it didn't hurt. Trying to ignore the pain that licked at his body like a fire.

"Gene!"

He could almost hear her voice.

"GENE!"

It became louder; footsteps slapped against the ground.

"Gene."

There was no denying the desperation in her voice.

"You're not real." He said; his voice breaking halfway through the sentence. "You're just another trick my memory's playing on me. When I turn around you won't be there." He didn't turn around though. For the same reason he hadn't checked the Kitchenette that lonely night. He was scared of the knowledge she wouldn't be there.

"Gene..."

**So was Alex really behind him? Or was it his mind playing tricks on him? You decide. I'm not sure. It could have gone either way. I hope you enjoyed it.**


End file.
